


Prey

by gryffindorJ, torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Detention, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-29
Updated: 2007-12-29
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ, https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: Snape may teach DADA now but he still loves to give Harry detentions with potions.





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).



> Written for Snarry Hols 2007. Thanks to sweetmelodykiss and harleen for feedback, and Persevero for SPAG.

"Harry, why are you eating so fast? Slow down," Dean said, looking at him from across the table. As Harry's mouth was full to bursting, Ron answered for him.

"He can't slow down. Snape's given him detention."

"What? Over Christmas? That bastard!" Dean replied hotly, leaping to Harry’s defense. Harry swallowed with difficulty around his not yet fully-chewed food.

"He really likes making my life hell," Harry grumbled, before taking another mouthful of food. 

As usual, the House Elves had outdone themselves, as there was enough food for the entire house. Since it was Christmas holidays there were only a handful of students left in the castle. Ron and Hermione had stayed to keep Harry company and Dean had stayed for Luna’s sake. Other than that, there were only three Gryffindors left. 

Harry checked his watch; he didn't want to be late and give Snape yet another reason to torture him. He took one last quick bite of treacle tart before standing. 

“Don’t let him get you down, Harry,” Ron said, patting Harry on the shoulder as he turned to go.

“I can handle Snape,” Harry replied and hoped it was the truth.

Harry walked to the dungeons, positively dreading what Snape would come up with this time to punish him. He stood outside Snape's door and swallowed hard at the prospect of the first night of an entire week of detention with him. Harry raised his suddenly heavy arm and knocked twice. 

"Enter," said the cold, measured voice. Harry turned the handle and walked over the threshold of the dimly-lit dungeon. He stood in the entrance, watching Snape writing at his desk. 

"Potter, you are very close to being late. Do not let it happen again," Snape said, not even bothering to look up to see who was at his door.

"I wasn't late though," Harry said back defiantly, glaring at the man. He was in no mood for Snape and his contrived way of making Harry appear guilty.

"As we’ve discussed before, I don’t take cheek. Five points from Gryffindor," Snape said silkily, finally looking at Harry, "and if you continue with that face it will be another ten.”

"Don't stand in the doorway like some dolt. Shut the door," Snape said, his robes billowing as he made his way to a table in the middle of the room. As Harry walked into the cool office a new scent reached his nose. Between Occlumency lessons and his many detentions, he was familiar with the herbal, slightly medicinal scent that permeated Snape’s office; this smell was something different altogether. As Harry followed Snape to the table, Harry realized it was the rich scent of leather. A row of knives and other cutting instruments was placed in rows along the right side of the table. 

"I cannot prepare potions properly with dull instruments, so you, Potter, will be sharpening them for me. You will not use magic, but sharpen them using this strap." Snape held up a length of long, thick, black leather. "I assume you know how to use this." It was not a question; Snape dropped the strap on the table and strode back to his desk. 

Harry held the leather in his left hand; it was slightly stiff but also gave easily when enough pressure was applied. He then picked up the first knife with his right. He began to drag the knife across the black leather, the metal making soft, scraping noises as he did so. 

Harry looked over at the man that he knew better than most, having spent more time with the man than had any other student at Hogwarts. Yet he continued to treat Harry like an insolent child. In Harry’s moments of reflection, when he lay in bed at night trying to understand his conflicted feelings towards Snape, he often wished he could get Snape to see the real Harry, not only ‘Potter’ the boy whom he had known since the age of eleven. Their whole relationship had been built on misunderstanding and prejudice. Harry's chest ached as he feel asleep each night wondering what he could do to get Snape to care for him, maybe even to love him.

"Potter, you are as abysmal at this as you are at potions," Snape snapped, breaking Harry’s concentration, which unfortunately wasn’t focused on this task any more than it ever was during Potions.

"I manage all right in NEWT level Potions," Harry retorted. “Especially since you aren’t teaching me,” he added under his breath but immediately regretted it. He was certainly not doing himself any favors sniping at the man.

"Did I not warn you about cheek, boy?" Snape said, as he stepped beside Harry. He grabbed the knife from Harry's hands. As Snape's cool fingers brushed Harry's hand, Harry felt a stirring low in his stomach. Snape was standing so close to him that Harry could feel Snape's breath brush across his flesh, and inhale the man’s earthy scent. All of this did nothing to help the rapidly rising problem under his robes.

"You need to angle your hand this way," Snape directed but Harry was not looking at the way Snape was holding the blade; instead he noticed the gentle color of Snape's skin. Once, perhaps, Harry would have described it as sallow, but seeing it properly, he realized it looked more the color of cool cream. His cock throbbed as he imagined the expanse of pale flesh beneath the black robes beside him. How could he be simultaneously infuriated with Snape for giving him detention and turned on by his mere presence beside him?

"Potter, you are not paying attention! Give me that!" Snape yelled, grabbing the leather from Harry's other hand and breaking Harry from his thoughts. 

"You are not taking this seriously. You are completely obdurate. Perhaps you need more substantial punishment to convince you to follow the rules." 

Harry looked up at Snape; his face was as cold as his voice. Snape's eyes flicked across Harry's face for a moment, then he began speaking as he circled Harry and the table. 

"Interesting instrument this strap is," Snape said quietly, dragging the smooth leather between his hands. "It's made to hone and sharpen a tool properly. I wonder, Potter, if it will work that way with _you_?" 

Harry’s jaw tightened and blood pounded in his ears as anger built inside him. Unable to hold his tongue any more, he replied through gritted teeth. 

"I don’t have the foggiest idea what you are on about." 

"Don't you?" Snape said delicately as he passed behind Harry and stopped. Snape suddenly pressed his whole body against Harry’s, a grunt escaping Harry's lips as he became pinned between Snape and the table. 

"And address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘Sir’ at all times." Harry pushed back, trying to free himself, but Snape was stronger than his thin frame suggested.

"What are you doing?" Harry yelled, still trying to free himself.

"Stop!" Snape ordered, grabbing Harry's wrist. For an inexplicable reason, Harry no longer moved but stared at the hand clasping him. Snape moved his mouth inches from Harry's ear, his warm breath ghosting across the nape of his neck, goose bumps rising in its wake. Snape's right arm suddenly flew out, causing the black strap to sail through the air, his wrist snapping at the right moment to cause the leather to send out a loud crack that echoed off the dungeon walls.

"That gratifying noise, do you know what it is?" Snape asked. 

Harry had not looked but kept his eyes stubbornly on Snape's hand on his wrist while Snape brandished the strap. He could feel his cock begin to strain in his pants, and he didn’t want to meet Snape’s eyes. As Harry's arousal and anger seemed to have removed his voice, he merely gave a short shake of the head. 

"That, Mr. Potter," Snape said, pushing himself roughly against Harry and snapping the leather again, "is the sound of the leather moving so quickly through the air that it moves faster then the speed of sound, causing that delicious snap to which your body stiffened."

Snape then put his lips almost directly on Harry's ear, “I wonder if that snap is even more satisfying when it impacts with young, taut flesh?"

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Harry's anger finally exploded as he yelled, pushing against Snape hard enough that he sent the DADA instructor tripping backwards across the room. Harry spun around to see the anger in Snape's eyes but it could not match the fury in Harry. 

"What kind of sadistic, depraved plan do you have for me?" 

Harry's chest heaved as he raged at Snape whose face was purpling with pent-up rage. They stared at one another, seeing whose will would break first. Harry told himself to run but his feet felt stuck to the cold stone floor; he wouldn’t allow Snape the privilege of winning _this_ round. Harry opened his mouth to speak again but suddenly Snape flew at him, knocking him hard against the table once again. This time Harry's grunt was lost as Snape's mouth covered Harry's.

Harry pushed and fought as they kissed roughly, teeth knocking and scraping lips and tongues. Harry tasted iron in his mouth as he pushed against Snape, his "No" lost in the battle that was brewing in the violent kiss. When Snape finally let go of Harry, had it not been for the table behind him, Harry would have fallen over backward. A pink flush marred Snape’s pale features. Harry could feel that his own lips were quite swollen and the side of his lip bled where Snape had bitten him. 

"Turn around," Snape ordered, his eyes burning with desire. Harry looked defiantly back at him, wiping the hot blood from his lip with the knuckle of his fore-finger. 

"No."

"Turn around _now_ , Potter, or I will make you. If I have to make you, I will fuck you so hard you'll feel my cock in your arse until next week." 

Harry stared back and shook his head with contempt. He wouldn’t give in that easily.

Snape grasped Harry’s shoulders roughly and spun him around. He pushed Harry forward, pressing his chest to the table, and pinned Harry down with his body.

"I will teach you obedience before you leave here today. Now, off with your trousers." Snape's free hand reached around Harry, finding the belt of his jeans and pulling it loose. As he undid the button, the back of Snape's hand brushed Harry's straining prick. 

"What's this, Potter?” Snape said, placing his hand on top of the bulge. Harry's eyes watered and his breathing was labored. But Snape’s hand touching him there was almost too much. 

"You like the way I am treating you, because you know you deserve it." Snape pulled at Harry’s robes, bunched them up around his waist, and then slipped his hand down Harry’s pants. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s throbbing cock and Harry unconsciously began to move his hips back and forth, thrusting into Snape’s hand, aching to come. 

“Look at you, Potter, fucking yourself on my hand. Are you so desperate, so wanton that your nasty old professor can satisfy you? Or are you imagining someone else on their knees in front of you? Who sucks you off in your dreams at night, Potter?” 

“Please,” Harry whispered.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Snape replied smugly.

“Please!” Harry said.

“Please what? Please stop?” said Snape as he stilled. “Tell me. Beg me, Potter. Please let you come? Please fuck you until you see stars? Please tie you up and take you?” Snape purred, as he gave Harry’s cock a hard squeeze with his hand, Harry’s leaking prick supplying the only lubrication he was likely to get.

“Please fuck me, sir!” Harry cried. Snape snickered and slowly released Harry’s throbbing prick. Harry waited. What was Snape playing at? 

“Sir?”

Snape began to wrap the leather strap around Harry’s wrists. The leather cut into his flesh, making it burn an angry red.

“I can’t trust you, Potter. I need to make sure you follow my every instruction to the letter,” Snape said. He couldn’t trust him? Hadn’t Harry been begging him to fuck him only a moment ago?

“No.”

“Excuse me, Potter. What was that?” Snape said, stopping all movement completely. 

Harry ripped his arms away from Snape’s grip and spun around. His green eyes flamed with rage.

“I said ‘NO’!” Harry roared. “I am not playing this little game with you, _Professor_. Making me pretend that I’m the one who wants you.” Snape’s eyes moved quickly back and forth in small movements, trying to read Harry. 

“I see you the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. It’s only after you watch me that you hide your prick behind your desk! You can hardly manage a class when I am in it. All you can think about is tasting me, hearing me, fucking me.” Harry began to advance on Snape, who stepped backwards, his breathing short but his face impassive. 

Harry knew he wanted Snape to lose control, to unleash the passion he forever kept bottled except in anger. To hear the austere man crying out in pleasure was worth every minute of the suffering Harry went through, because he knew Snape wanted him, badly. No matter the reason - whether it was just for sexual release or as some sort of Karmic retribution - Snape wanted Harry. 

Sensing Snape was harder, needier then he let on, Harry decided to throw caution to the winds and give the man a taste of his own medicine.

“How does it feel, Professor, wanting to fuck the wizarding world’s Golden Boy? Did you imagine you’d be admired for your excellent taste or reviled for desecrating their idol? Do you sleep well at night knowing that the only way you can get laid is by fucking your students?” Snape had stopped moving; he let Harry’s chest press into his own.

“You couldn’t even wait till I came of age – how long have you wanted to fuck me, Professor? Since this year? Or maybe even earlier?” Harry felt Snape’s cock twitch in his trousers, pressed as he was against his thigh. 

“Oh, you are a horrible, filthy pervert, Severus Snape.”

“Potter,” Snape’s voice warned, but Harry continued, unafraid. 

“Was it during our Occlumency lessons, when you had me on my hands and knees? Did you imagine fucking me then, Professor? I know you did. I imagined it too. I hated you for it, for making me hard. I had to run from you after every lesson so you wouldn’t see how hard you made me – ah!” Snape had lost control and began kissing and pulling at Harry - biting his lips, his jaw; licking down his neck. 

“Or, ahh, was it - when you,” Harry’s head fell back, Snape’s black hair falling across his face as he leaned forward, “first – laid – eyes – on – me?” 

Snape dropped to his knees, pulling out Harry’s leaking cock and wrapping his lips around it, running his tongue up the underside, making Harry’s prick strain. 

“Take me, all of me, in your mouth,” Harry commanded and Snape obeyed, wrapping his lips around Harry’s prick, gripping Harry’s hips, pulling him closer. Snape slipped his hands to Harry’s arse, spreading his cheeks, fingering the crease.

He pulled his mouth off Harry’s cock long enough to reach for his wand and whisper the incantation that slicked his fingers. Licking the weeping head, as Harry gripped the table behind, Snape renewed his attention to Harry’s hole. His slick fingers prodded the wrinkled entrance, pressed against the tight ring of muscle. Harry moaned as the first fingertip entered him. Already he wanted more. As Snape pressed his finger deeper, Harry pushed back against him. Snape’s finger brushed the bundle of nerves inside Harry.

“Oh God!” Harry cried as Snape continued teasing his prostate and Harry rocked back and forth between his mouth and his hand, knowing he couldn’t last much longer. 

“Take it, Snape. I know you can’t wait to drink it all down, the very essence of the Boy-Who-Ahhh!” Snape thrust in two fingers and assaulted his prostate causing Harry to see stars. He looked down at the sight of Professor Snape, on his knees, sucking his cock. That alone was too much. Harry rocked back on Snape’s hand and then pushed forward violently, coming with a shout. 

After a few moments, Snape stood and licked his lips, a nasty smile spreading across his thin face. Snape waved his wand and Harry was completely naked, the cool air of the dungeon chilling his sweaty body instantly.

“On the table, boy. I want you on your hands and knees so I can fuck you like the animal you are.” Harry’s sated mind didn’t protest and in fact his limp cock gave a twitch of interest at Snape’s promising words. He scrambled up onto the table, his entrance completely exposed to Snape’s critical eye. Snape stood behind him and ran his long, cool fingers over the sweaty flesh before him.

“You are mine now, Potter. Don’t ever forget it,” he said, giving Harry’s arse a swat. 

Snape tapped his wand against the table and it began to lower itself, presumably to bring Harry to the proper height for Snape to fuck him while standing behind. Harry also felt something rope-like wrapping itself around his legs. Trying to look behind him, he realized vines were growing up from the four table legs and twining themselves around his legs and arms, holding him in place. 

Harry prayed that the two fingers preparation was enough, because Snape was already nudging the blunt head of his cock against Harry’s hole. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax as Snape slid in with one forceful thrust.

“Oh, Merlin!” Harry cried, as Snape groaned behind him. Snape felt huge and Harry was completely overwhelmed in sensation. Snape waited a few moments; whether it was to allow Harry time to adjust or so he wouldn’t embarrass himself, Harry didn’t know, but soon after he began to move. 

Snape’s hands began to wander over Harry’s sweaty flesh. First a tweak of his nipple sent shock waves through his body. Then the fingers circled his navel, fondling the slight depression. He tangled in the coarse dark hair as he made his way lower. He slid his hands back up Harry’s thighs, resting them perfectly on his hips, and pressed his chest to Harry’s back. Snape not having removed his shirt, Harry felt the many buttons scraping his skin lightly. 

As Snape picked up his pace, he stroked Harry in time with his thrusts. All thought was lost when Snape’s cock found its target inside him and Harry groaned. 

Snape gripped Harry’s hips tightly, pulling Harry back just as much as he was thrusting forward. Harry held onto the edge of the table, his eyes tightly closed, in spite of the fact that he knew he could not fall, tied down as he was by the vines. But Snape was sending his body forward with such force with each thrust he feared going head-first onto the hard dungeon floor. 

“Open your eyes, Potter!” Snape commanded, slowing down his cadence to a deliberate lengthy grind. Harry was at a loss as to how Snape knew his eyes were closed.

“I said open your eyes!” Snape hissed, thrusting hard into Harry and making him yelp and open his eyes.

Harry’s eyes soon discovered the reason why Snape knew his eyes were closed: leaning up against the wall was a large mirror. Snape must have transfigured or conjured it nonverbally. It provided a profile image of Harry and Snape together. Harry could clearly see himself on all fours, tied to the table with thick vines, his knuckles white but his skin flushed from the exertion. His muscles were prominent, straining with effort, and his dark hair stuck to his sweat-soaked forehead, a small trickle of blood escaped from his lip, and angry bruises blooming on his hip. 

Snape stood behind him with a look that made Harry think perhaps he’d been awarded the Order of Merlin. The way his elegant, sinewy frame overpowered Harry’s muscular, youthful physique was more pronounced as Snape was still half dressed, trousers around his thighs. 

“You see yourself?” Snape said, his black-as-night eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror. 

“Do you like watching my long smooth strokes? Or do you prefer me deep inside you?” With the words, Snape began to fuck Harry harder, making Harry’s knees cry in protest against the hard table; his hole clenched around Snape but his cock slowly came to life again.

“I see that, Potter,” Snape said. “You love it so much you can’t help but be hard for me over and over again.” Snape slid one hand down to Harry’s prick, teasing it for a moment with one finger; he snickered as Harry’s cock seemed to be seeking Snape’s touch.

Harry was so distracted by the mirror he hadn’t realized Snape was very close to coming. He was panting; his thrusts were erratic, his free hand roaming Harry’s body while pumping his cock frantically. Harry could feel his balls tightening and knew he was about to come. But he wanted to bring Snape with him, so he clenched tightly around the man’s cock, causing Snape to thrust hard and fast. Harry moaned in pleasure as his own orgasm burned within him. Snape pumped hard and Harry came, screaming Snape’s name. Hearing and feeling Harry’s pleasure at its height, Snape came shuddering and gasping in completely unadulterated pleasure. 

Snape undid Harry’s magical bindings only after slowly slipping out of him. Harry, exhausted, collapsed onto the table, feeling his racing heart beat rapidly in his chest as his skin felt the cool dark wood. 

Snape looked at Harry and saw the bruised fingerprints on his waist. He looked to Harry’s face - his lips pink, his eyes closed, his dark lashes long and thick. Snape cleared his throat and Harry’s eyes fluttered open. 

Harry saw tenderness on Snape’s face that he was unaware the man possessed. It caught him off guard, leaving him momentarily stunned. Then Snape lifted his hand, cupping Harry’s jaw and running his thumb against Harry’s lips. 

“You’re bruised,” he said. 

“It’s nothing,” Harry said, brushing it off, his throat closing up with an emotion he’d rather not identify too closely. 

“I apologize. I was unaware I was doing so.” Snape leaned down, kissing Harry, licking his salty skin. “I’ll be more careful next time.” 

Harry laced his fingers through Snape’s dark, sweat-dampened hair and pulled him closer. 

“Same time again tomorrow, Professor?” Harry smirked.

“Professor?”

“Just doing as I was told, Sir,” Harry said, feigning innocence.

"I should have tied you up at eleven."

"No years of sexual tension?"

"Who says I would have done anything other than tie you up?"


End file.
